Race You To The Bottom
by alittlate
Summary: HIATUS. Tig Trager's playmate, Kata, is getting fed up with being dragged along behind the biker and being used for nothing more than a faked house wife and sex. She wants to the be the biker's old lady, even if it kills her, and after years of hanging around, she's finally putting her foot down.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello lovely people! So here's my take on a SOA story line that has been floating around my head for ages,  
but I just never really got around to jotting it down be fore now...so please subscribe and review,  
and let me know what you think! Because the next chapter is almost ready and if I know people like this, I'll definitely be posting more :)**

* * *

Sunlight filtered through half demolished curtains, lighting the small bedroom of apartment seven in a complex just off what would have been the main drug strip of Charming, California. The alarm clock sprang to life on the makeshift beside table in the shabby apartment, with the paint peeling off the walls, stained carpet, reeking of stale sex and weed...you get the point.

Kata Ualda somehow untangled herself from the quickly fraying sheets and looked around for the torn jeans she'd been wearing the night before, clutching her head and trying to peel apart mascara caked eyelashes.

"'ast fucking time..."she growled to an empty bedroom. He never stayed, she kept swearing him off, but he always came back and she let him in. All he had to do was flash her one of those sexy smirks that made her knees weak and her pussy instantly wet. He knew it too. He knew what he did to her, bloody bastard.

She hadn't come back to Charming for this shit. She let herself fall back against the tangled sheets, in need of a good washing, her naked skin seemed to prickle with the anticipation of another round that wouldn't happen. Damn him. She picked up a pillow and launched it at the piece of technology that chirped happily telling her to get her ass out of bed and get to work. Because she refused to be taken care of.

Because she wasn't his old lady.

_Yet._

Hell. He was almost old enough to be her father, but she didn't care. Zero. Were the fucks she gave when it came to their age difference. She was almost thirty for Christ's sake, she sure as hell wasn't getting any younger. He knew it too. He'd probably get his fill of her then move onto the next piece of ass that would openly reserve herself for him.

Fucking Tig Trager.

The pain in her ass. But the good kind of pain that always seemed to have her crawling back to the biker for more. Crawling on her hands and knees at that. She'd moved here from a few towns over because he wanted her to be closer.

He said 'jump', she asked 'how high sir?'. She was like a dog, not a woman, just a bitch who'd fallen for a Son of Anarchy that she should have known was going to cause her trouble from the get go of their relationship.

Kata stood, legs shaky, he'd fucked her good. If she couldn't walk she sure as hell wasn't getting to work on time. Good thing the boss man was too busy watching all the young little things run around the track across the street at the local high school to even notice her. Not that the teens running around in tiny bikinis three feet away wasn't enough.

Oh Charming. Perfect little, white picket fucking fence, Charming. She loathed the town and the people.

Everything was so..._charming_.

She snorted and moved into the bathroom just outside the bedroom, no time to shower, and pulled an elastic from her wrist tying the long dark hair back and out of her bright blue eyes. She paused and pulled her skin tight in some places, trying to make herself look a little younger, but it wasn't happenin'. Her eyes followed suit, trailing over her body. Small feet attached to long legs, gave way to thick thighs and hips - _child bearing hips, so said Tig_ - with bruises from last nights activities, flat stomach with a small scar on her right side - _from when she was eight and the doctor had ripped out her appendix for no apparent reason_ - nice breasts - _a small C cup_ – and finally what most would call a pretty face.

But Kata never liked it. She blamed the fact her druggie birth mother always called her fat and ugly as a kid. _Bitch._

She made due of what was left of last nights make up, washing her face only enough to look presentable. Limping back into the bedroom, she dressed in tight dark jeans, a good support bra and a white tank. She had no one to impress. She'd already hooked herself a Son. Throwing her ratty purse over her shoulder and picking up the prepaid phone from Trager she headed out, locking up behind herself.

For a Tuesday morning, eight nineteen to be exact, the small town was already quite alive and well. She groaned inwardly, that meant she'd actually have to do something today. Boss man only hired her because she was a pretty face, that other old men would flock to the desk to reserve a locker for the community pool. _Ew._ If they knew what the teenagers did in there at night they wouldn't be rushing their asses outta the nursing home to take a dip.

Walking four more blocks she entered the more friendly part of Charming, with cute little flower shops, bakeries and a barber shop where Tig usually got his hair cut. How she knew that she'd never know. Or maybe it was the fact their always seemed to be a man wearing a cut inside.

_Whatever._

Kata bee-lined for the cheapest coffee shop, wanting nothing more than a pick me up, a coffee, and a bagel. Something to settle the nausea of her hangover. She mumbled her order to the pimple faced teen behind the register and paid in change, stalking off to a corner until her number was called.

She wasn't a people person, so generally she didn't go out of her way to play besties with other females, like the rest of the playmates the Sons of Anarchy had running around. She didn't give a flying fuck what those bleached out, fake baked porn dolls thought of her.

_So sue her._

She had somewhat of a moral set. Or she liked to think she did. At least it wasn't things like _'Get a new set of boobs from sugar daddy'_ or shit like that. Her's were moreso _'become Tigs old lady because you've been riding his cock for long enough'_. Almost five years, yeah, she was getting fed up with this shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**SOOO good news and bad...I got into college! WOOHOO. BUT. That means I'll be moving in the coming weeks since I'm going somewhere that isn't this shit hole aka somewhere with a mall and a movie theater...and people. So. This may be the last update for awhile. But I will try and pump out another right before I leave because the 'will I have internet?' question is up in the air for the time being until I get setup in my new place. ANYWAYS. **

**You know the drill. Leave reviews and love if you want updates. Because I only update if I get reviews. And I promise the next chapter will be the real Kata x Tig! **

**xo. Hugs and bites.**

**PS : Check out my homepage for a link to my writing tumblr! I'll post fan fic things, fan girl things and original fiction there!  
**

* * *

_"So do you need something, or are you just going to stand there looking like an out of place idiot in a cut."_

Kata raised a dark eyebrow at the biker on the other side of the counter. It seemed Tig didn't trust her enough to go to work and be a good girl, that he had to send over one of the newbies to the club to check on her. While he played good little 'mechanic'. Had the newbie caught her at a good time, she'd be flirting the ass off some old squat so he'd get another locker. Hey, she was paid off commission, sue her for trying to make a little extra cash. Though that would surely rile up her dark haired biker. It wasn't like she was stripping for cash. _Yet._

The kid stared at her for awhile more before he stalked off again to his bike. Obviously, this wasn't what he signed up to do when he pledged his allegiance to the club either. Kata wasn't an old lady, so sure sure as hell didn't need a fucking babysitter to watch her ass. Nor did she want someone checking in on her every other hour to see if she was still there. But if she wasn't there, Tig would know. The man better damn well know.

He swore the day she moved to Charming for him it'd be different. But now a few years later, she was still in the same shit hole apartment, and dead end job that only lasted five months a year. After that it was busting her ass waitressing like she did in high school. Thing was, she really was fucking fed up with his shit, she wanted to know, and she wanted to know now.

Was he in, or was he out? And she didn't mean inside her, mind you.

Kata wasn't getting any younger, and as much as she despised white picket fence Charming, she had sort of promised some one she'd have a white picket fence life, or something like it. She was sure her mommy would rather she didn't ride around on the back of a motorcycle, with a man who was fresh out of the slammer, and ran guns and painted the town red. But love was love. And Kata loved Tig. And when you loved someone...you made them happy.

Tig might have been happy, but Kata's happiness was starting to wind down. She needed to make him tick. Tick so he'd have no choice but to make her happy. Beg her to stay at his side, prove she wasn't some child or 'mama' he messed around with when the time arose.

His time was winding down, and it was winding down fast.

* * *

Sounds of metal hitting metal, grunts of men and the slickness of grease filled his ears, but all Tig could concentrate on was throbbing pain in his skull that reminded him of his hangover, but also of the past nights events with the leggy brunette that fawned over him. He smirked.

People around Charming loved to talk, especially when he took the young woman as his lover. She was nearly young enough to be on of his daughters, but age was but a number to him. And she was everything to him, so much more then a young lay. He'd known that the moment he'd gotten inside her. He had to have her, all the time and anywhere. She brought something out in him, something he couldn't explain.

Tig walked across the Teller-Morrow garage, where a car was raised off the ground waiting for a new muffler. Things weren't as easy as he'd like them to be. The others gave him hell for having such a young woman. Probably because she was so close in age to Dawn and Fawn, his daughters from another woman. He shook his head, full of dark curls and squinted looking out across the parking lot. A few bikes here and there, everyone had been scattered since Jax had taken over.

People were choosing sides. And truth be told, he didn't even know where his own loyalty laid.

Inside the club and out.

* * *

The sky was turning from a bright blue, to hazy pinks and reds as the smell of summer barbeques filled the air and children ran across lawns yelling in glee, as the sun began to set over the Charming. Night was coming, and with that darkness, the shadier side of Charming showed itself in the underbelly. The cute little shops were closing their doors, stereotypical 'CLOSED' signs gracing the mirror-like display windows. The barber was sweeping the sidewalk in front of his shop one last time.

As she said before, everything was so fuckin..._charming_. Gag her. Please.

Kata strolled back down the picture perfect sidewalk of main street, the lights were starting to come on over head. Which meant she was shit outta luck for getting herself some groceries tonight. Another night going to bed on a empty stomach if Tig didn't come around. He at least made sure she ate, _food or cock. _Usually the second if he had his way. You'd think that after laying him long enough he'd know what she wanted, and what she needed. She wanted more then the rough fucking they did. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to come home to her ever night. Every single fucking night, doing club shit or not. But she'd never tell him that, she didn't want to seem desperate.

But that was how love was, it was desperation. It was need. _It was what she needed to survive._

The familiar rumble of motorcycles, the rumble that could rattle her bones, could be heard in the distance, which meant the Sons of Anarchy were done with 'chapel'. Something that seemed to happen every other night since Clay Morrow got two bullets to the chest. Kata didn't know the whole story. And she didn't dare ask. It wasn't her business. But she heard the rumors. The club was starting to fall apart faster than Jax Teller could sew it back together. Pity. She turned her head slightly as the rumble grew, the sidewalk beneath her feet seemed to shake and quiver, setting her bones a'rattle.

A small smirk grew on her lips. He would come. They would disperse and he would come looking. That's how it always was with him. He needed to release his stress. _Release his stress into her._

Though, for the first time ever. She'd make him work for it. He needed to feel how she felt, every time he wasn't there when she _wanted him. Needed him. _Kata continued her stroll, adding a light swing to her hips when she knew a few riders had turned the corner of the street she was walking. And like she knew the scent of his skin and the beat of his heart, like she knew the purr of his motorcycle.

Tig was nearby.

The bike seemed to roar ahead of the others, gliding like an ice skater beside where she walked. Kata rolled her eyes. He was showing off again. Like they didn't know she was his pussy fix. He'd already complained to her about his fellow riders giving him hell, saying she was too young or too...wild. Or both. She couldn't be tamed even Tig knew that. She wasn't about to lie down and let a man tell her how it was to be done. He always said that's what he liked about her so much. Her take no shit attitude, and, of course her body and how well she pleased him between the sheets.

Also because she was a fighter. He liked that too. He called her _his little fighter_. Because she fought for him, day in and day out. She fought to keep whatever the hell they had alive.

Kata felt the light tickle of his finger tips on her hip as the bike kept pace with her, she knew what he wanted. He wanted her to mount his stead so they'd ride off together into the sunset. Fat chance.

She'd play the game, but it wouldn't be his game. _For once._ **_It'd be her's._**


End file.
